


Halloween Spirit

by dresdea



Category: TWRP | Tupper Ware Remix Party (Band)
Genre: Boys Being Boys, Fake Blood, Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, and forget about phobos, phobos is a snob about air quality, poor phobos, rock n roll best friends, sung is a dick, they prank each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-30 22:29:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12118569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dresdea/pseuds/dresdea
Summary: Phobos' helmet breaks, and he needs a replacement. They head to the Halloween store. Shenanigans ensue.





	Halloween Spirit

**Author's Note:**

> Shoutout to my discord group for the idea! First time posting TWRP fic, please be gentle. Characterization based on my headcanons of the characters.
> 
> Edit: Even after 3 proof-reads, I'm still finding typos.

Phobos' helmet had cracked sometime in the early hours of the morning when he took a particularly nasty spill in the hallway tripping over Dangus, who had chosen a very inconvenient spot in the middle of the floor to stretch out and chill in the dark. Sung had looked it over, still half asleep from Phobos' frantically knocking on his door. “It's going to take a couple of days for me to get the parts and fix this. The respirator is about as good as dead.”  
  
_Days?_ Phobos signed in despair. _Do we have a spare respirator?_

   
Its not as though Phobos couldn't breathe without it. His lungs worked fine, and the oxygen levels on Earth were perfect for him. The respirator was mainly for space travel, but the quality of the air on Earth gave Phobos reason to wear it almost everywhere. Even in their shared home, he rarely removed it.  


“Well... We were looking into a HEPA filter anyway... I suppose now is as good a time as any to install one.” Sung 'hmm'd' softly, setting the helmet on his nightstand. He caught a quick glimpse of the digital clock before it clattered to the floor. “It's only four in the morning. We can go to the home improvement store after breakfast to pick up the parts I'll need, and the filter.”  


Phobos signed a quick “thank you” and spun on his heel and made his retreat, wary of Dangus still stretched across the hall, undisturbed.  


The sun eventually made its way up over the horizon, warming the ground below. Fall caused a sharp chill in the early hours. Sung returned to the house after his morning jog, nose red and cheeks a deep pink. He unzipped his track jacket and hung it on a nearby clothes hook, stretching his arms above his head. The scent of coffee wafted out toward him from the kitchen, and a smile touched his lips. Toeing off his shoes by the door, he made his way to the source.  


“Good morning!”  


Commander Meouch looked up from his mug, hunched over on a barstool at the kitchen island. “Mornin' dude,” he replied, voice still gruff from waking. His tail gave an amiable swish, tip dragging across the linoleum below as Sung took a seat beside him. “You look like hell. Phobos wake you up, too?”  


Sung nodded, folding his hands on the counter top. “Yes, his helmet got a little beat up. His respirator broke.” He reached up and unbuckled his chin strap on his pylon, lifting it up and off of his head, and setting it down on his thigh, hand resting atop it. With his free hand, he rubbed over his eyes, palm sliding down over the splatter of shimmering freckles on his cheekbones. “Around dawn, I think.”  
  
Meouch took a sip from his coffee, hissing in through his teeth suddenly. “Shhhhit!” He puffed his cheeks up after swallowing and let out a slow stream of air. “Fuck, that was hot as shit! But, yeah,” he exhaled again, sticking his tongue out briefly to cool it off. “he banged on my door at ass-crack o'clock, flipping out about the air. Wouldn't leave me alone 'til I found one of those hospital mask things under the bathroom sink.” He imitated the Doctor and scrubbed his paw-hand over his muzzle, palm coming to rest under his chin as he leaned against it. “What's the plan?”

“Well, we need to find Phobos something to wear over his face first. You know how he gets.” Meouch gave a solemn nod. Phobos was still fairly self conscious of his skin, even though it had been five or six earth rotations since they declared it suitable as their home. It gave a soft glow, becoming brighter as more blood flowed to the area. This included when he played guitar, slept on a certain side, and, much to his dismay, even when he sat too long. It had been Havve who had pointed it out.

 

**YOUR SHORTS ARE GLOWING, LORD PHOBOS.**

 

Through his athletic shorts that he wore around the house in the summer, sure enough, the skin around his rear and thighs was illuminated from sitting on the couch too long playing video games with Meouch. It had been _weeks_ until they let it go. The rest of the band had promised to never point it out again, after how much distress it had caused Phobos. He hadn't spoken to them in well over a week.

“I figured I could pick up a HEPA filter to install, as well, so Lord Phobos doesn't feel the need to wear his helmet in the house. Ah!”  


Phobos practically two-stepped into the room upon hearing Sung's voice.  


_Good morning!_ He signed, hands flying. _Can we go to Home Depot now? I made sure everyone was awake._ It was unspoken law that Phobos refused to wake Havve under any circumstance. When asked why, he was quick to change subjects.  


Meouch and Sung exchanged a glance before Sung started to speak. “About your helmet...”  
  
“We need to take you to Spirit Halloween, dude!” Meouch cut him off, beaming. “Gotta find you somethin' to cover up that ugly face of yours.” Phobos feigned offense, giving a one shoulder shrug as the corners of his mouth upturned in mild amusement. “They got all sorts of masks 'n shit for sale. We can find you somethin' to hold you over til Doc fixes your helmet.”  


Sung turned his attention to Phobos with a grin, careful not to make direct eye contact. He had the bad habit of accidentally getting into people's heads with sustained eye contact, and ever since the incident before altering Phobos' memories of what happened on his homeworld, Sung made it his personal mission to avoid direct eye contact without sunglasses or his pylon visor between gazes. Phobos idly ran his hand through his hair with a nod, gold curls wrapping around his fingers as he brushed it back.  


It wouldn't be too bad. Just in and out, right? He gave them a thumbs up and went off to find his sunglasses and a baseball cap Meouch had given him as a gift a few rotations back, to keep the sun off of him while he worked in the garden. He appreciated it immensely.  


Meouch was the second to excuse himself from the kitchen to get changed, giving Havve's metal exterior a light kick in the shin with his foot as he passed. “Rise 'n shine, Hoag. We're going to the Halloween store.”  


Dim red LEDs began to illuminate from empty black sockets, a soft mechanical whirring, and then steady hum sounded as he booted up from sleep mode. Meouch was really the only one who had any success waking Havve. Anyone else who tried usually wound up a little bruised, and traumatized by the murderbot. He slowly stood from his chair, joints giving a slight creak before settling as he pulled various cords from their sockets at his side.  


**IT IS ONLY SEPTEMBER, COMMANDER.  
**   


The Commander shrugged. “Phobos needs a makeshift helmet while Doc fixes his usual. C'mon.”  
                                                                     

      **\------------------------------------------------------------**

Fifteen minutes later, all four groove crusaders were packed into the van. Classic rock filled the empty space from the radio. Doctor Sung drove, per usual, window down and his elbow hanging out. Meouch sat shotgun, boots up on the console. He wore a beanie, flattening down most of the top of his mane. Sung had commented once that he looked like a classic lumberjack with a full beard, so he rolled with it. Ladies loved the lumberjacks. Havve sat with his hands on his knees and posture rigid behind Meouch. It was a unanimous decision that Havve's cold stare reflected in the rear view behind the driver was a little much. Lord Phobos sat comfortably, elbow against the base of the window and chin in his palm as he watched trees and cars blur past. The hood of his sweatshirt was drawn up over his hat, jacket left unzipped over that.  
  


Planet Earth was _cold._ And not like, chilly cold. But cold as shit. Phobos hailed from a warm, sunny desert planet. Where it never even got cool. Earth falls and winters were nearly unbearable, and he had to really bundle up in order to comfortably leave the house. Today, jeans, a hoodie and a jacket were fine.  
  


Soon enough, they pulled up to a large warehouse looking building, with a banner pinned to the front that read “ _SPIRIT HALLOWEEN. NOW OPEN!”_ The four of them slid from the car and made their way in, almost immediately blending in with the costumes lining the walls and displays along the floor.  
  


Not twenty seconds through the door, Sung let out a small shriek. A motion activated skeleton had gone off and lunged toward him, stopping mere inches from his face. Meouch howled with laughter as Havve tried to peel off their leader who was plastered to his arm. Phobos laughed silently, hands shoved into his pockets as he stepped around the trio and made his way to the mask aisle.  
  


There was a bit of everything, honestly. Scary masks, gorey masks, political figureheads, animal masks-- one that looked oddly like Meouch's stage mask. Had he bought it here? Masquerade masks, ridiculous looking space helmets, police hats and robber masks. He browsed for a while, grabbing a handful at a time and ducking into the dressing room periodically to check the mirror. Anything terrifying was out, as were animal masks. He wasn't too fond of the faux alien faces either. With a sigh, he returned the various hats, masks, and helmets to their respective places and continued his search.  
  


Meanwhile, Havve and Meouch had made a game of trying to see who could make Doctor Sung piss himself first. They took turns jumping out at him behind displays with terrifying props, activating fog machines and laughing skulls, and grabbing his shoulder with skeleton hands. Sung put up with the abuse for a good ten minutes or so before he folded his arms. “Alright, I think that's enough for today, guys. Let's go.” With what was left of his dignity, Sung turned on his heel and marched out of the store with his head held high, ego only a _little_ bruised.

Once again, they exchanged looks. Meouch shrugged and clapped the robot on the shoulder as he passed. “C'mon. Let's go apologize.” They waved to the cashier as they left empty-handed, heading over to the car. Meouch leaned down and rapped on Sung's window, waiting for him to roll it down. When nothing happened, Meouch rolled his eyes and pulled the door open. Out fell Sung onto the pavement, red oozing out below him. Meouch screamed, and Havve stared down, red eyes blaring. “Fuck! Oh, shit, fuck, fuck, Doc!”

Doctor Sung sputtered, and whispered quietly. Commander Meouch kneeled beside him, taking his hand. “Don't worry man, we're gonna get you to a hospital, and it's gonna be fine-”

Sung coughed and shook his head, gesturing for him to lean down. Meouch ducked, his ear close to Sung's lips. “.....you.”

“What? Dude, again, I can't hear you.”  
  
  
Sung's shoulders began to shake.

 

“Got you, you fucking punk.”

 

Immediately, Meouch shot up as Sung began to belly laugh, rolling over to sit upright on the pavement of the parking lot. He peeled off the jelly blood spill, balling it into a squishy mass and pushing himself to his feet with the support of the van. “You should have seen your face!!” He cried, tears of mirth falling from his eyes and out below his visor.  
  


Meouch was livid. “Dude!!! Fuck off! I thought something had happened!”  
  


Havve stood idly by, expressionless.  
  


**THAT WAS CLEVER, DOCTOR SUNG. THE COMMANDER ALMOST STARTED CRYING.  
**   


“I did _not!_ ” Indignantly, Meouch sniffed and dusted his knees off. He took a breath and exaled. “Okay, I'll admit it. Good one, you got us. Can we _please_ go to Home Depot now?”  
  


“Fine, fine,” Sung wiped his eyes once more and beamed, sliding back into the driver's seat. They all piled in and took off toward the home improvement store. It wasn't until they were grabbing a cart and heading in when Havve spoke up.

 

**WHERE IS LORD PHOBOS?**

 

Meouch and Sung stopped dead in their tracks, frozen with wide eyes.

 

“Oh. _Fuck._ ”

 

They found Phobos sitting beside the first register in a folding metal chair, arms crossed over his chest tightly. Over his face was a Marvel Starlord Helmet. His blond curls spilled over the upper edges of the mask. The manager looked between the three of them, tapping her nails against the counter in annoyance.

“You were gone for _twenty minutes_. How do you forget your _child?_ ”

 

It was another handful of weeks until Phobos would hear the end of that one.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Ideas for this popped up in a discord group and I loved the idea of Phobos being left behind in a store.


End file.
